


legs for days

by sarcangel



Series: tumblr ficlets [4]
Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fishnets, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, stocking kink?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:43:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcangel/pseuds/sarcangel
Summary: just niall, nick, fishnets, and wanking





	legs for days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [niallszayn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/niallszayn/gifts).



> for pia, on the event of her birthday <3 (sorry, friend, i'm trying to consolidate everything)

Chalk it up to boredom, but when the package arrives that afternoon Niall literally jumps off the sofa to get it. If his hands shake a little when he rips the tape off, there’s no one here to see it - and if your hands shake and no one sees them shaking, did they even shake at all? He’s gone in the head, lost it completely. **  
**

This thing with Nick’s been simultaneously mad and one of the easiest things he’s ever done, though Harry’s been unbearably smug since finding out. Being benched for a month in LA couldn’t have come at a worse time - but in a way it’s given them space, time to figure out what’s really at stake.

And if he was trying to play it cool - which he wasn’t, even, what’s the point - he lost all possible chance of it when he saw those pictures of Nick in tights, red fishnets sneaking up his legs like hands. Just enough to imagine the nylon cupping Nick’s knob like Niall wants to, to wonder what the texture would feel like with those long legs wrapped around his waist. But the box is here, now, he’s never been more grateful for next-day shipping, and turnabout is fair play, after all.

It’s dark by the time he gets up the nerve to pull them on.

“Shit.” His thumb slips against his phone. He ordered black for himself, the classic fishnet diamond pattern - since he’s all about the classics, as Nicholas reminds him often. His heart is hammering so hard, he’s sure Nick could feel it all the way across the ocean, if he were awake. His fingers slip against the crinkly cellophane package. And Jesus, he’s never done anything like this, but he’s surprised by how much he wants to - how giving into it feels good, an ache that settles low in his pelvis. The tights are stretchy and a little scratchy, and mat the hair on his legs underneath the threads. For the first time, he thinks about shaving - how the stockings might be different, slide slinky against smooth skin. What the fuck has gotten into him tonight?

He’s not sure what to do about the top so he’s left his briefs on, material wadded tight against his groin. And it’s uncomfortable - just a little, just the right amount - and he’s sweating down his chest as he puts his stockinged foot up on the couch, drapes his T-shirt strategically, and snaps the picture.

“Even a thick Irish steak likes a good fishnet sometimes .” He captions it, pushing send before he can overthink. It’s not - they’ve done plenty, but nothing like this; he’s nervous, is all, anyone would be. He flicks on the telly, leaving the stockings on. He strokes himself a few times, through the fishnets and his pants, pushes down with his palm and squirms against the pressure of his hand. It’ll be better if he waits, anyway. He’s good at waiting.

***

He’s a mess. He fell asleep on the couch per usual, woke up at midnight and couldn’t get back to sleep. Now he’s puttered around, straightened his sock drawer, taken a shower, eaten a snack. His face hurts, dully. Nick’ll probably be up any minute, he’s still an early riser, and Niall’s stomach’s knotted up like his fishnets. He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the text notification.

“GOOD MORNING TO ME,” Grimmy’s captioned the picture of himself. His hair’s everywhere, and he’s still obviously tucked into his sheets.

Since Niall’s awake anyway, there’s no point in not replying, though his fingers hesitate on the screen of his phone. “Morning !” he replies, laying back against his own pillow.

It’s no surprise when the FaceTime call comes through. Nick’s dopey smile puts all his nerves at bay, like always. He exhales, still shaky, and props the phone on the pillow.

“Frisky. That all you got, Hor _an_?” He does it on purpose, saying it wrong, for the laugh that flies out of Niall, loud in his quiet bedroom.

“Morning, Nicholas.” His own smile stretches across his face, his cheeks ache with it.

Nick frowns a little. “Surprised you’re up, though. Fall asleep on the sofa again, or are your old man habits truly taking over? Pretty sure my mum wakes up at 4 a.m. on the daily, no reason other than she’s up.”

“Woke up, been up,” Niall shrugs.

“Let me see you, then. Miss you, me.”

He takes a breath and then he’s actually doing it, sitting up to pick up the phone, dragging the sheet down and off his body. He can hear Nick suck in a breath even over their tenuous connection.

“Niall. What - did you? Bloody hell, you’ve taken off your pants.”

And he has to laugh, then, at the gobsmacked look on Nick’s face, the flush rising up his neck. He tilts the phone so Nick can see all the way down the lines of his legs, the pattern of tights against his skin, the bulge where they’re pulled tight over his prick, already half-hard. Bare underneath, the netting is painful - just enough to drive it home, make him even crazier.

“The look on your face,” Niall cackles. “Imagine how I felt when those Radio 1 pictures went up.”

“You’re brilliant. This is brilliant.” Nick’s arm moves down, disappearing under the sheets.

“Are you -”

“Don’t be stupid, of course I am. You’re mad if you thought I wasn’t going to.” Nick smiles sweetly at him, even as his eyes get heavy.

Niall groans. “You’re killing me.”

“Want to see you do it. For me, yeah? Put a hand on that lovely bulge for me.”

He can’t not, when Nick’s asking like that - both gentle and desperate, and sometimes he still can’t believe he’s making Nick Grimshaw desperate. He runs a hand over himself; squeezes, groans again.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Nick says. He’s changed the angle of his phone, now, pulled down the sheet so Niall can see him, his hand curled while he wanks himself, slowly, eyes intent on Niall.

Niall shudders and hisses, pushing down harder. It’s intense suddenly, staring Nick down while they pleasure themselves, though who was he kidding - it’s been no accident, buying stockings to dress up for him, being home when he calls, waiting for him to wake up in the morning.

“All right?” Nick asks.

“More than. Want these off, though.” He feels like he’s going to burst, rubbing off this way through the tights, if they don’t chafe him raw first; but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“Don’t,” Nick says, through a gasp. His hand’s moving faster now, twisting a little on the upstroke and Niall knows that hand, what that twist feels like. He pushes his hips up a little, like Nick can feel him. White noise is starting to fill his ears, it’s gonna be over embarrassingly fast.

“Beautiful, beautiful,” Nick is murmuring, Niall can hear him almost like he’s there and then he’s crying out, coming. It makes a huge fucking mess, seeping through the tights, getting the nylon slick and sticky against his palm.

Nick rasps out a laugh and Niall turns his head just in time to see him spilling over his own fist; his aching dick twitches one more time. He fights to keep his eyes on Nick, who’s finally got his eyes closed, working himself through the rest of it.

“That was something.” Nick’s eyes flutter open, and a crooked smile hooks his mouth.

“You’re something.” Niall can hear the wrecked fondness shooting through his own voice, strands of gold.

“You’re incredible. This sodding ocean. Wish you weren’t untouchable right now.” He reaches out, traces the screen with his finger.

“It’s all right. Don’t think I would have survived you touching me. Barely survived myself.”

“But I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Niall says, through a massive yawn. He thinks he could sleep now, finally. “Soon.”

 

[say hi on tumblr :)](https://sarcathlon.tumblr.com/post/179949796373/this-is-for-farfromthstars-who-is-not-really)


End file.
